


All As It Should Be

by werewolfsaz



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dreaming, Everybody Lives, Explicit Sexual Content, Fix-It, Implied Relationships, M/M, The movie should have ended like this dammit, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:33:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3096686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werewolfsaz/pseuds/werewolfsaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>***WARNING!! SLIGHT MOVIE SPOILERS!!*** If you haven''t seen BotFA but intend to and don't want a hint, keep moving people. Otherwise, welcome!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Down there," Dwalin growled, pointing over the edge of the small ledge they were on. "He went to face that filth. He wouldn't let me..." The dwarf looked away, face more pained than Bilbo had ever seen it. "He sent me away. Told me to protect the boys."<br/>The hobbit gazed softly at the suffering warrior, the one who would do anything to protect his king, reaching out to pat his arm when his sensitive ears picked up the guttural snarl of Orc voices.<br/>"You have to get out of here before they find you," Bilbo urged. "I'll go to Thorin. Go. Go!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	All As It Should Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [innerain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerain/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [按部就班](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252911) by [viciousmomo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viciousmomo/pseuds/viciousmomo)



> Hail all. I had to write this, I mean, come on! We all know how the movie should have ended and this is how I wanted it. I hope you enjoy it. Would have been tears of a different sort if we had this ending... *grumbles*  
> Italics is the dream by the way but I'm sure you'd have figured that out.  
> Anyhow, kudos and comments have a loving home here so please, if you have any strays, I welcome them all  
> Thank you and enjoy

_Bilbo woke with a groan. He blinked slowly, trying to figure out where he was, what had happened... Then it came flooding back. The race up Raven Hill, the other army of Gundabad Orcs, warning Thorin... Thorin! Bolting upright, the hobbit scrambled to his feet, swaying slightly. He lifted a hand to his head, feeling a large bump where that big Orc had thumped him. How long had he been unconscious? Where were the dwarves?_

_Racing through the ruined tower, tripping over broken masonry that pierced the tough skin on his soles, the hobbit searched for his friends, praying every step of the way. He could hear something up ahead, rough, dwarf voices if he wasn't mistaken, and after a year in their company that was hardly likely. Dashing through one of the broken archways, Bilbo found Dwalin and Kili, the pair working frantically to bandage a clearly wounded Fili._

_"Oh, thank goodness," the Halfling breathed, relief coursing through him like a river. Then confusion creased his features. "But... I thought I saw Azog stab you and throw you from the tower...?" he stammered, stepping closer to the injured dwarf._   
_"He did," Fili grunted back, teeth clenched as his brother wrapped a tight bandage around his ribs._   
_"Hush," Kili ordered, running a tender hand over the sweat matted golden hair. "He threw Fili off but he wasn't dead and I managed to catch his hand as he fell. Dwalin found us just a few minutes later and helped me get him over here."_

_Bilbo nodded, eyes studying the dwarves. Fili was covered in blood, sweat and dirt, heavy, improvised bandages covering his torso and securing his shoulder. Kili was also sporting a heavily wrapped wrist. The force of catching his falling brother had clearly cost them both a few more injuries. Dwalin was his usual, stoic self but he was obviously in pain from some unseen wound._   
_"Where's Thorin?" the Halfling demanded suddenly, his relief swept away by a much larger wave of dread._

_"Down there," Dwalin growled, pointing over the edge of the small ledge they were on. "He went to face that filth. He wouldn't let me..." The dwarf looked away, face more pained than Bilbo had ever seen it. "He sent me away. Told me to protect the boys."_   
_The hobbit gazed softly at the suffering warrior, the one who would do anything to protect his king, reaching out to pat his arm when his sensitive ears picked up the guttural snarl of Orc voices._   
_"You have to get out of here before they find you," Bilbo urged. "I'll go to Thorin. Go. Go!"_

_Spinning, Bilbo flew down the sloping ground, stones rolling and slipping underfoot. He paused, gasping for breath and as he swept his eyes along the frozen river felt his heart stop. There was Azog, massive, cruel blade plunging towards Thorin as the dwarf lay pinned to the ice. There was a clang as Thorin's blade rose to meet it and a battle of strength ensued. Heart in his throat, Bilbo rushed down, losing sight of the battle. His blood pounded painfully in his head, terror leaning him strength as he scrambled to the ice. One thought roared in his head as rushed towards the king._

_Why hadn't he told Thorin how much he loved him?_

_Emerging from the rocks, Bilbo staggered towards the ice, gasping for air. He whirled, spotting Thorin just as Azog's blade sank home in the dwarf king's chest. Bilbo's heart stopped. The world spun sickeningly as he staggered a few steps across the frozen ground. Then Thorin was moving again, throwing Azog from him, rolling and thrusting his own sword deep into the Orc. For a long moment the dark head stayed bent over his fallen foe, filling Bilbo with fear once more before Thorin heaved himself to his feet. The spell was broken when Bilbo saw bright blue eyes flash at him across the distance and he rushed across the ice._

_"Thorin!" he cried, almost colliding with the dwarf in his hurry. He threw his arms around the king, supporting him as best he could but also holding him tightly. He steered them from the edge of the waterfall, helping Thorin to a rock._   
_"Bilbo..." the dwarf king grunted as he sat down, gazing at the copper haired Halfling._   
_"Hush, let me see to your wound. I thought it went into your chest..."_

_Pushing away layers of armor, Bilbo examined the wound, finding it closer to the shoulder but still deep. With no thought of the cold, he stripped down to his mithril shirt, tearing strips from his shirt to bind the gash._   
_"You need a proper healer," the hobbit babbled, nimble fingers working quickly to stem the bleeding. "So does Fili..."_   
_"Fili?" Thorin gasped. "He's alive?"_   
_"Yes. It seems he wasn't as dead as Azog believed and Kili caught his hand as he fell. There are some badly displaced bones and sprained joints I shouldn't wonder..."_

_Bilbo looked up when Thorin's big, calloused hand covered his own smaller one, lifting it up to his face. Bilbo could only stare, transfixed as the king pressed the grimy palm to his sweat streaked and blood smeared face, battle bright eyes closing._   
_"I thought he had me that time," Thorin muttered. "I thought I was to die without ever having made amends with you, little hobbit. I thought..."_   
_Bilbo held his breath as Thorin's sapphire eyes flashed open again, wide and full of some deep emotion he could hardly dare to believe. The dwarf pressed the small hand tighter to his face, the other coming up to brush over Bilbo's cheek softly._

_"What did you think?" the Halfling asked, breathless with fragile hope. He flexed his fingers against the ticklish roughness of Thorin's beard, something he had longed to do for months. Slowly, he brushed his hand along the king's jaw, letting his fingers feel all the different textures of the dark hair there._   
_"I thought I would never see you again," that deep baritone half sobbed, eyes sparkling with emotion. "To have gone to the gates of death without having told you that I... I'm sorry, that I was a fool and that I didn't mean a word of it. That I love you, Bilbo Baggins."_

_Bilbo felt as if he were about to explode with joy. He had known long ago, as far back as the hug on the top of the Carrock, that he was deeply, desperately and unequivocally in love with Thorin but had never hoped that the dwarf would return his feelings. He heaved in a breath, tears blurring his vision as he stepped closer, brushing a soft, unsure kiss to the pale pink lips before him._   
_"I love you, Thorin Oakenshield," he murmured back. "Even when you're stubborn and pig headed and infuriating. I love you."_

_He gasped as Thorin pulled him closer, crushing the hobbit to him so he could kiss him deeply. Bilbo's ears were ringing with the intensity of the kiss, mind dazed from the addictive feeling but his eyes were still sharp. He saw an Orc rise from a pile of bodies and throw a wicked looking dagger at the dwarf king's back. He was slow, too slow!_   
_"Thorin!" he cried._

****

"Thorin!"  
"It's alright, love, I'm here. Bilbo, wake up. I'm here, I'm alright. Wake up, love."  
Bilbo's eyes popped open, blank and unseeing for a moment. Then life flooded back into the blue/grey orbs, hands flying up to clutch at Thorin's naked shoulders. Frantically he ran his fingers all over the skin he could reach, needing to reassure himself that it had just been a dream.   
"The dagger..." he muttered, fingers skating down the broad expanse of the dwarf's back.  
"It never touched me, remember?" Thorin replied softly, brushing sweat damp curls back from the pale forehead, pressing his lips there. "Dwalin appeared in the nick of time and deflected it with that goblin corpse. Do you remember?"

As the dark haired dwarf had been speaking his hands had been stroking along Bilbo's arms, trying to reassure him further. Now he bent to press his lips to the hobbit's cheek, waiting for the dream to loose its hold and let his Bilbo return.  
"Yes," the Halfling breathed a moment later. "Yes, I remember. That dream..."  
"Was just that, a dream," Thorin said firmly. "I would rather you had dreamed of today instead of months ago."  
Bilbo huffed out a laugh, reaching up to wind his arms around Thorin's neck, pulling him down for a long, deep kiss. Ah yes, their day had been the stuff of dreams. Not many could have wished for a wedding such as theirs.

***

Both of them would have been happy with a simple ceremony, just their friends, in one of the newly restored halls high in Erebor. But the Company had gone into overdrive and planned a massive festival to celebrate the union of their King and his burglar. Gandalf had been asked to officiate despite the protests of many very high ranking dwarves. Dain's loud and pointed offer to fight anyone that had a problem with his cousin's choice had silenced them however. In fact, the Lord of the Iron Hills settled quite a lot arguments about the wedding, much to both Bilbo and Thorin's gratitude.

On the morning of the wedding Bilbo had been presented with a beautifully made suit in russets and golds. As he marveled over it, he noticed that it was not dwarf made but rather the distinctive weave of the Shire. He looked at Fili questioningly. The young dwarf had healed remarkably well though his shoulder still ached in the cold, matching Kili's wrist.  
"Uncle Thorin sent the ravens to the nearest dwarf settlement with instructions to pass it along until they could reach the Shire. Apparently the suit was made in record speed. He was very insistent about how fast it needed to be made and returned. He also had them bring back all your belongings and board up Bag End until you decide what you want to do with it."

Bilbo had the image of a group of dwarves, heavily armed and dressed in iron, stomping into the Shire and ordering such a lavish outfit. He had become a little more accustom to dwarves, their behavior, their manners but he could imagine the way the Shire folk had probably reacted. The thought of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins coming face to face with a group of dwarves boarding up his fine house, packing up his fine things and denying her access... The image was so wonderful that Fili had to put his wedding suit down, confused, while he finished laughing, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. The image reappeared often as he dressed, giggles bubbling up in his chest each time.

But all mirth was forgotten as the hobbit approached the hall where they were to be married. It had been decorated with strings of precious stones that caught the sunlight streaming in through the crystal windows, covering the entire hall in beautiful rainbow hues. Flowers brightened every table and chair, displays of life and growing things in this great dwarf kingdom of stone. Faces of friends and family turned as he walked in with Bofur on one side and Balin on the other, all smiling softly as the hobbit was escorted towards his betrothed.

Thorin was not wearing his fully kingly regalia as Bilbo had expected. Instead he stood beside Fili and Kili wearing simple dwarf armor, hair neatly braided and beard perfectly trimmed. The ceremony itself was rather a blur, Bilbo to caught up in the moment to do more than answer in, he hoped, the right places, eyes fixed on Thorin's. The last act was an exchanging of tokens, something that was deeply meaningful. Thorin handed Bilbo a crystal pot filled with dark earth and a tiny green shoot.

"My acorn!" the Halfling exclaimed, delightedly, cradling the little shimmering pot gently. He kissed Thorin quickly, beaming against his lips before pulling back to hand over his own gift.  
"I'm afraid it's not perfect, love," he apologized, holding out a package wrapped in blue cloth. "I'm hardly a master craftsman after all but... Well..."  
Opening the cloth, the dwarf found a wooden box and inside...  
"Bilbo..." he breathed. "They're beautiful."

Resting on red velvet inside the box were a set on small silver beads, designed to catch in Thorin's hair. He touched them gently, smiling. "You made these?" he asked, eyes moving back to the furiously blushing hobbit.  
"Yes. Though, the others helped a great deal. They showed me how to do everything and yelled at me quite a lot. I know they're a bit lumpy and nowhere near as lovely as the ones you already have..."  
"I love them. And I love you."  
He crushed the Halfling to him, kissing him briefly but hard before they had to turn and welcome their guests.

Bard had come with his family, the people of Lake Town having resettled in Dale, rebuilding with the help of dwarves and elves and forming strong links with both races. Thranduil also came, much to every ones surprise. He was gracious to all, wishing Bilbo and his King long life and happiness. It seemed the Elven King had mellowed considerably since the Battle of the Five Armies. Bilbo had asked Thorin to grant him a gift of the perfect white gems recently mined from the Western most hall but had finally, after many hours of reasonable arguments, had to resort to threats and the promise to with hold access to the hobbit's bedchamber if he didn't. It worked surprisingly well.

The night was full of fun and feasting, dancing, singing, stories, gifts both to the happy couple and from them. Bilbo saw Fili and Kili sneak away around about midnight, hiding a knowing smile. Since the lovely elf maid had turned away to follow the Elven Prince the brothers had grown closer and closer until their relationship took on a new aspect. Bilbo didn't see a problem. They deserved happiness and clearly found it with each other, who was he to judge? And soon it was his turn to be lead off to the bedchamber, to raucous roars from the assembled dwarves, Elves and men.

Thorin was so eager for his hobbit, so keen to get to the flesh he had touched many times before, he had practically stripped him before they even reached the royal bedchamber. Their lovemaking had been fast and desperate, needy and skin hungry. They were so hungry for one another that they managed several rounds before collapsing on the bed, sated, exhausted and tangled together contentedly.

****

And now they were awake again, Bilbo managing to put his nightmare behind him as he sank into the soft heat of his husband's kisses. As Thorin's lips moved to trace down his throat, the pale gold skin already red and tender feeling from beard burn, Bilbo tangled his fingers in silver streaked, dark tresses. It was a wordless signal, one that Thorin often looked for. It meant Bilbo wanted to take charge for a while, a change that the dwarf readily welcomed. With a soft laugh and half hearted shove, the hobbit pushed his beloved over, crawling into his lap.

"It seems like such a long time since I just looked at you last," Bilbo mused quietly, hands resting on his husband's broad chest, fingers playing idly with the dark hairs that curled there over dusky, battle scarred skin. He brushed the new, shiny scar left by Azog, frowning for a moment before ducking down to press a kiss to the slick, pink skin, trying to press pleasure where there had been only pain before. Lazily his fingers roamed up to brush through Thorin's beard, to pet his wild hair with loving hands even as his mouth worked across the swell of one pectoral until it found his lover's nipple.

Thorin sighed, arching into Bilbo's touches, mind hazy with pleasure. How someone so little could bring him such pleasure with just a few touches was a delicious mystery, one that he hoped was never solved. Bilbo left off his ministrations to Thorin's nipple, moving down to kiss more battle scars, as if his lips could wash away the memories of their causes. He was in no hurry, happy to map every inch with lips and tongue as he had done many times before but he could feel the familiar longing, the need to be completely claimed by the one he loved.

There was a spot, low on Thorin's right side, that was especially sensitive and rendered him breathless. Bilbo bit it lightly, distracting his lover for a moment. It was all he needed. He was still loose and slick from their earlier lovemaking so it was the work of just a moment for him to raise up on his knees, position himself as long practice allows and sit straight down on Thorin's throbbing erection. The dwarf King was still panting from the bite so the sensation of his burglar sheathing him in one easy motion came as a shock. His breath hissed out between his teeth, large hands flying up to settle on Bilbo's hips, matching previous bruises perfectly.

Bilbo took a moment to let himself adjust to his beloved's impressive length, eyes closed, head thrown back as the stretch settled to a more comfortable level. He rolled his head forward, grinning down at Thorin, eyes flashing mischievously.   
"A King needs his rest, love," he purred, hands pressing to the firm swell of his lover's chest as he lifted himself slightly, easing back down in a slow, teasing move. "I must insist Your Majesty lay back and let me take the strain."

Thorin grinned back, a little breathless and more than a little aroused by his teasing Halfling. He was about to make some remark back when Bilbo began to move again, faster this time, blunt fingernails digging into Thorin's skin as he rode the dwarf hard. All thought left the brunet. He could only watch his husband move, the way his coppery curls stuck to his skin, the flush on his cheeks that spread down his neck and chest, the way the sweat pooled in the hollow of his throat. Bilbo was usually so composed, immaculately dressed, perfectly in control. To see him like this, feral, disheveled, eyes blown with lust... It was a heady thing.

"Thorin..." he groaned suddenly, hips stuttering, hands slipping a little against the dwarf's chest. As if hearing his name broke some spell, the King realized how close he was to release. Only Bilbo had the power to enchant him so completely that he forgot everything else, even his own pleasure. One small hand slipped down to press firmly against that spot on his side that made him see stars, causing his back to bow as the fire in his blood swept into a huge whirlpool of desire low in his groin. He reached up with one hand, touching Bilbo's face gently.  
"Bilbo..." he rumbled, voice deep, dark and wrecked.

The hobbit threw his head back, crying out as his orgasm swept through him like dragon fire. Fireworks danced behind his closed eyelids, ears ringing with the sweet sounds of his beloved's voice. He was vaguely aware of Thorin under him, body arched, shivering almost violently as he spilled into his husband. Moments later they collapsed together, still sweaty and tangled together, sated once more, if only for a little while. Bilbo curled himself against the broad chest of his husband, drawing sleepy patterns in the dark curls below his heart.

"No more dragons. No more war with the Elves. What will you do with yourself now?" he teased, fingers resting over the throb of his husband's heart.  
"I'm sure I'll find a way to keep out of trouble for a bit," Thorin grinned back, pulling his hobbit up for a kiss. "And, if I get too bored, I happen to know a master burglar. He's already stolen my heart, I'm sure he can find something for us to do."  
Bilbo laughed, sinking against his husband to kiss him a while longer.  
"I love you, my King."  
"I love you, my burglar."


End file.
